


Comunication

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: The night before Dawn starts high school, Buffy checks out the new building atop the Hellmouth and finds herself strangely drawn to the basement. It’s the first time she’s seen Spike after a long summer, when so much was left unaddressed, but is there anything left to say now? (A rewrite of the start of Season Seven.)





	1. Part One

Buffy was sick to death of magic. Her tolerance for it had been wearing thin for a while, and then everything with Willow… she closed her eyes, not wanting to think about it anymore. Her best friend was due back in Sunnydale any day now, and Buffy wasn’t even sure if they were friends anymore. But that was a side issue, for dealing with when she finally did arrive. Now, Buffy had bigger things to think about, and this wasn’t caused by a spell.

He was just standing there, looking at her; for once, his eyes not saying anything. She was staring back, trying to figure out what he was thinking. If he was real.

Normally, those eyes held so much. Longing, frustration, anger, kindness, three dozen things at once, not least – dare she think it – love. Now there was… what? Three feet and a lifetime of angst between them? And he’s stood there looking like he’s not feeling the weight of any of it? God, she wanted to hit him in his stupid luminous head.

Her hands fisted at her sides, and she caught him glancing at them. Instantly, she let go. She couldn’t hurt him. Couldn’t touch him. But oh, how she wanted to, and how much she hated herself for that.

Some things never change, after all.

There was some innocuous noise in the corridor above them, like a rat or a rumbly water pipe, and she saw him flinch. Except, that couldn’t be right, could it? Him, flinch? She didn’t think such a thing could be in his nature. Predator acting like prey. Had she done that to him? No. She shook her head and looked away, trying to collect her thoughts. She was not to blame for this, she’d been adamant about that all summer, if only in her own head. But that wasn’t _exactly_ true. It was partly her fault. Maybe. And goddamn it, now he had her thinking about it again, and he still hadn’t opened his stupid mouth.

Had she expected him to apologize? Not really, but it would have been nice. As well as the smirks and swagger routine, and the eons that she’d come to expect in his gaze, he was always the one who couldn’t shut up. And now here she was, her mind going into overdrive with everything they weren’t saying.

Why, why, why did she have to see him today? Why ever again, and what the hell were they gonna do?


	2. Part Two

It definitely felt like she was missing something. Spike had been gone all summer, he was back now, and everything had changed. _He’d_ changed, she just wasn’t sure how yet, or why.

She remembered Angel being gone, then coming back again feral and very much with the non-verbal, but he’d been to hell and, as much as it looked like Spike hadn’t been taking care of himself, Buffy didn’t think his refusal to say anything was the same.

So no hell experience, probably. At least not in the literal sense.

It was the eyes. Something to do with the eyes was– 

The thought cut off as a new one slammed into Buffy’s brain and overrode everything. Spike’s eyes were definitely different. They were both duller and had a new kind of glow. A spark. She stepped closer to get a better look and saw the brief moment it took him to decide to stand his ground and not shy away from her touch.

“Spike,” she said, her voice sounding wrong; too raw. “Spike, you–” there! She saw it again. It _was_ in his eyes all along.

“You got your soul.” The words tumbled out in a frantic whisper, and they scared her. The truth of them didn’t hit her until they were in the air between them, and then it was too late. She couldn’t undo it, or reel them back in.

He swallowed and looked away, not denying it. Did she want him to deny it? She honestly didn’t know. After all the scenarios that had played in her head, she hadn't expected this.

There were a million questions suddenly fighting to escape Buffy’s mouth. The one that won and tasted the newly tainted air first was, “You did this for me?”

Spike shook his head empathically before looking back at her, and she was disappointed. Why was she disappointed? She didn’t want this. She hadn’t asked him for anything!

Finally, he spoke, the words breaking her heart all over again. “I did it to be the kind of man who would never–” he closed his eyes and took a breath before saying more certainly, “To be a kind of man.”

Buffy was speechless, the rest of her questions abandoning her, leaving her void. He’d said one sentence, but it had spoken volumes. How could she reply to that? Where could she even begin?

There was a noise above them again, then one behind; closer. They made Spike go all fidgety.

“There’s something here,” said Buffy, thankful the Hellmouth had provided a distraction and given her something she _could_ comment on.

“Something above, something below,” Spike agreed. He pointed to the dirt under his boots, “From beneath you it devours.”

Buffy stared at him. “There’s something here and it’s making you crazy.”

He chuckled in a manic way she hadn’t heard before. “Well, yeah, where have you been all night?”

She shifted, overwhelmed with the wiggins, then made a split-second decision. “I’m getting you out of here.”


	3. Part Three

Spike seemed hesitant to leave the school basement, and outright rebelled when Buffy brought him near to her house.

“Can’t go there,” he said, trying to pull out of her grasp.

“Why not?” asked Buffy, her glare wilting when he answered with a pained expression that said everything.

She knew why. Of course she did. But that didn’t mean she wanted to acknowledge it.

“I’ll put you in the basement,” she said, and that seemed to calm him some, but not entirely.

Buffy took a steadying breath.

“Look, I’m not going to be the one to comfort you and try convincing you to come back in my home if you really don’t want, but you’ve got my help if you decide to take it, limited time offer.”

He began walking again, dead men’s steps towards an electric chair.

Buffy couldn’t explain why she was doing it, even to herself. She didn't want to think about it, but she did want to help Spike, whatever her reasons.

He paused again at the front door and she looked at him.

“What now?”

“Invite,” he said, the words sounding like ashes in his mouth.

Buffy’s eyes softened and she reached past him to turn the handle and push the door open. She tried to train her eyes on it as she felt his searching her face. After a long moment, she saw from the corner of her vision, him reaching out, his hand not finding a barrier.

She pushed past him, heading straight for the stairs. He followed into the hall, stopping at the newel post as if it were a guard. It was where he’d told her he knew that she’d never love him, but that he’d fight for Dawn anyway. It was where he’d looked at her like a goddess fallen from heaven when she’d been… well, ripped from heaven.

It was where he’d left his coat hanging, the last time she saw him.

Buffy cleared her throat, pushing the memory away.

“Come up,” she said, “Get clean.”

He looked like he was going to argue, then immediately acquiesced.

Knowing that she must have gotten through to him with her earlier ultimatum of help, she was relieved he wasn’t going to push her on it. She couldn’t bear to force him into accepting; it’d be too weird, given everything.

In the bathroom, he stood still as a statue as she washed his hands, peeled off his torn clothes off his back, and dressed his wounds. They weren’t healing right, she noticed. Being as high a vampire as he was, they should already be gone, but they looked old and not in any hurry to fade.

“Buffy–” he said.

“No!” she snapped, before controlling her tone again. “We’re beyond that.”

He bowed his head. She didn’t need to define ‘that.’ It was everything. They were beyond modesty, and nakedness. Apparently beyond words, she thought bitterly. He’d seen the very raw centre of her – the best and the worst – and she’d… what had she done? Told him he was irrefutably evil, physically unable to change, while expecting him to be good, and punishing him for not measuring up.

She punished him even when he was good. The times he was better than her hurt too much, and she had to beat it out of him. She had to! It was too much. It was all wrong, and she couldn’t handle any of it.

She found herself hyperventilating, being anchored to the world by strong arms.

“How did we get back here?” she asked, her voice that of a little girl.

Spike swallowed, then said, “I’m not sure we ever left.”

And damn him but it was true. The summer hadn’t been long enough. Nothing had healed, and they were still locked together in this scene.

Buffy knew then that they’d always be locked there, somehow, if they didn’t move beyond it now.

“Spike,” she said.

He shook his head, clearly knowing where she was going. “No.”

She wasn’t giving up. “Spike, we need to fix this.”

He looked in her eyes again, soul deep. “Wasn’t it always broken?”

It took everything in her not to look away.

“No,” she said, decidedly.

His eyes widened, the light from halos shining out.

“No?” he questioned. It was a revelation. The word was whispered; reverent.

And suddenly, the truth was before her – bare – and she realized it wasn’t sudden at all. It had been there, waiting, all summer. She just hadn’t wanted to look at it. It was too bright, and violent, and–

“Spike,” she said again.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice terrified.

But she couldn’t answer; couldn’t say anything else.

She would show him instead, she decided. Bodies always were better at explaining things. There was too much, otherwise.

Everything had changed and everything was the same. It was magic that had granted their first kiss, but also reality; inevitability.

With a sick feeling, Buffy realized that they were always going to be headed for this, as enemies turned lovers. Except, they could decide to move beyond it, and the place for beginning that journey was right here.

Maybe she could stand a little more magic, after all.


	4. Part Four

“You did what?”

She glared at him, not backing down. “I made a decision about my life in my own home.”

Xander gaped, clearly struggling for words. Eventually he said, “You moved Spike into your bed?”

‘He’s sick,’ she could say, but didn’t. It was true, but it wasn’t the reason she had him back. When she remained silent, he said, “But what about Dawn?”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “What about her?”

Xander’s eyes nearly popped out of his eyes. “You’re going to have her live under the same roof as a rapist and you’re not seeing a problem here? Buffy!”

“I know about Anya,” she said, and he backed up a few steps.

“What?”

“You didn’t want to marry her. Were too scared of hurting her to go through with it, so you hurt her by pulling away. And now she’s a demon again, and back to being your dirty little secret. Do you ever think you’ll have kids?”

His mouth opened and closed, answers being considered then discarded.

Buffy continued, “You want to have kids someday, right? It might as well be with her, she’s your longest relationship. You love her, after all. And so you consider it for your future, maybe. Does it bother you that her hands are red? How many people has she killed this week, Xander?”

He paled, looking like he was going to throw up.

When Buffy was sure he wasn’t going to interrupt her, she said, “Spike didn’t rape me. He didn’t try. What he did– what that was…” she shook her head. “I can’t explain it to you and I don’t need to explain to you, because it’s none of your business, Xander. I love you, but this is not about Dawn’s safety, or mine, and you need to butt out. Tell Anya I said hi. Oh, and also that if she keeps killing in my town, I will be coming for her.”

For once, he had no response. Buffy was glad of that as she shut her front door in his face. Spike wasn’t the only one she needed to resolve issues with. Out of everyone, she actually understood his actions best. They were super complicated, no doubt, but were, ultimately, an echo of her own. And yeah, they still had a million miles to travel, but they were too far down the path now to head back and switch partners.

He wasn’t going to find anyone better for him and, she knew it now in her bones: there was no one in the world who understood her more, and loved her anyway.

As Buffy turned away from the front door, she saw Dawn sat on the stairs, watching her. She scooted over when Buffy approached and they sat side by side, not talking for a while

Finally, Dawn asked, “Is he really going to live here?”

Buffy shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes, for a while. Not really making any big plans at the minute.”

“Okay,” said Dawn, pondering it. “So it’s safe to have him?”

“He’s as safe as I am,” said Buffy. “Right now, we need each other.”


	5. Part Five

When Dawn left to go to Janice’s, Buffy continued up the stairs, only pausing when she saw Spike stood waiting for her in her bedroom doorway.

“You heard that?”

“I heard.”

She sighed and moved past him into the room where she then collapsed onto the unmade bed. Spike sat beside her tentatively. He’d slept beside her, holding her when she’d asked, but they hadn’t gotten physical with each other. Not yet, anyway.

“I’m tired,” she said.

“So sleep,” he said, moving ostensibly to give her some peace and quiet.

Buffy shook her head and held him fast. “Not that. I’m…” she trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I’m emotionally spent. Exhausted, in fact.”

“Willow’s back today,” Spike noted.

Buffy didn’t answer, just leaned closer, sighing again.

“As the song once said…” he drawled.

“Where do we go from here,” she finished, thinking on it. She took Spike’s hand and inspected it, holding it against her own. “Do you know what’s coming?”

“The whole ‘from beneath you’ bit?” he shrugged in her grasp. “I’ve heard whisperings; a lot of damn funny things. Not sure how much of it was trauma – nightmares and such – and how much was…” he shrugged again. “Something’s coming, I’m sure of it.”

Buffy nodded, her lips pursed. “Something’s coming from underneath. I bet I can guess from where.”

Silence reigned for a moment as that sank in, then she said, “This could be the fight of my life. Every year it gets harder.”

Spike didn’t say anything, but his presence was powerful beside her in his silence. Looking up, she caught and held his gaze.

“Will you be with me in this?”

A smile ghosted across his lips. “I will, if you’ll have me.”

Buffy smiled back, so glad she hadn’t lost him from her life. She moved in to kiss him, but he pulled back.

“Should we?” he asked.

She took his hand again, guiding it to her shoulder, and then down her arm. “I’m ready for it,” she said, “If you’ll have me.”

“But everything that–”

“Everything that went before, went before.”

His eyes searched hers. “It’s all okay now, is it?”

She had to look away before saying, “No. But it will be, in time. I want it to be.”

Spike rubbed his thumb across her knuckles before bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss each of them individually. “Me too.”

 

They fell back on the bed, gently exploring each other; the feel of his hands across her back, and her leg resting against his. It went slow, and then hard, and then slow again.

Buffy almost convinced herself she could fix the world, held in his arms like she was, but she knew better now. She wasn’t expecting him to save her, she just let him love her, and it was enough. All the important stuff – it would come with time. It already hung between them, unsaid but undeniably there.

They just had to get through the next thing, and the next thing, and the thing after that.

One day, she’d tell him.


	6. Epilogue

Willow warmed her hands on her coffee mug as she sat across from Buffy, her eyes a little clouded.

Buffy smiled a little, content that they’d found that easy flow in their friendship again. “Thinky thoughts, huh?”

Willow blinked. “Huh? Oh.” She returned the smile a little self-consciously. “It’s just… life is pretty weird.”

“The weirdest,” Buffy chirped.

Willow shook her head, processing it. “So much as happened.”

“You can say that again. Not all bad though.”

“Yeah,” said Willow, a hint of sadness in her tone that made Buffy realize she was thinking of Tara. She reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

Willow looked appreciative for a second, and then swiftly changed the subject. “So you and Spike, huh?”

Buffy’s smile returned, unbidden. She had to look away before a full attack of the goofy. God, it felt good to be happy.

“How did you guys get from fighting all the time to holding hands on patrol and cuddly pizza nights?”

Buffy snorted into her milkshake. “Oh, we still fight.”

Willow looked surprised, and she added, “Like cat and dog, but never serious.”

“Oh,” said Willow. “Well, if it works for you.”

Buffy regarded her friend again, a suspicious glint in her eye. “Go on, spit it out,” she prompted.

After a brief hesitation, Willow asked, “Is it the soul? Does that make the difference?”

“No,” Buffy answered in a heartbeat. “It…” she tried to find the right words. “It’s not that he has a soul – he’s still him, y’know? – it’s just that he was willing to actually go out and do that. It’s kinda hard to explain.”

Willow smiled. “Nah, that makes sense. I get it.”

Buffy smiled again, glad she didn’t have to explain it anymore. Giles had given her the third degree, but eventually he and even Xander had come around to the idea. It helped that she told them that they were together, no matter what they thought. It didn’t really leave them much choice but to table their issues.

Finishing their drinks, Buffy and Willow left the Espresso Pump and walked back towards the house where they were expecting the first busload of Potentials to arrive later. It was about time to be getting on with that next thing, but it had been nice to take a moment out before the chaos.

Back inside, Buffy felt as home as she ever had, falling into Spike’s arms and feeling him press a kiss to the top of her head.

“I love you,” she whispered, her face turned in towards his chest.

His arms tightened around her. “You too, Buffy.”


End file.
